


Nothing To Fear

by KnifeBinaryPrince



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Blood, Blood and Gore, Crying, Fluff, Insecure Keith (Voltron), M/M, Violence, Werewolf Keith (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-03-19
Packaged: 2019-04-04 17:59:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14025615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KnifeBinaryPrince/pseuds/KnifeBinaryPrince
Summary: Well fuck it's just what the tags say I fucking guess





	Nothing To Fear

**Author's Note:**

> I will write a proper summary later but this took me weeks so please enjoy!

Lance shivered, breath coming out in a thick white fog, cold winter air burning his throat. His knees sunk into the soft, muddy ground, soaking through his jeans, the grass covered in drops of rainy dew that caused his skin to prickle and hairs raise on end.

The last vestiges of adrenaline coursed through his veins, leaving him with a cold fear that clung to every part of him. Anyone that saw him in this particular situation wouldn’t blame him for the rapid beating of his heart or the fever hot sweat that dripped down his neck and caused his hair to lay slick against his forehead.

He lay kneeled on the ground, amidst the cold mud and dead coarse grass, the forest of bare trees around him creaking ominously in the wind. Before him laid a body of hulking mass and dark fur at least three times his size, parts of the thing’s fur and body slick and matted down with fresh blood. It’s mouth lay open, sharp teeth on full display and glinting eerily in the light from one of the trucks, engine still running, tongue lolling out in a puddle of blood and drool. It’s once yellow eyes were now glazed over in a murky white color, a telltale sign it was indeed dead.

A chunk of it’s face blown off and strewn about the ground further confirmed it, the pieces casting small dark blobs of shadows from the bright headlights that shined their harsh light in the middle of the clearing and beyond where he stood.

And Lance was shaking because of it, his knuckles white as bone as he gripped the gun that felt impossibly heavy in his hands. The smell of death and gunpowder burned his nostrils, every breath choking him on the thick, heavy scent that seemed to now blanket this neck of the woods.

A twig snapped and before it could even echo Lance had the gun pointed in the direction of the sound, eyes wide and fearful with his body tense as a taut wire ready to snap.

“Who’s there!?” He yelled, albeit shakily, voice wavering intensely in fear. His whole body shook as he awaited whatever would happen next, trying to quell at least some amount of fear to be able to see clearly and deal with the situation at hand without freaking out.

 

Oh who was he kidding?

He was beyond terrified at this point, he shouldn’t even be out here. He should be at home, cuddling with Keith and watching cheesy horror movies while buried under a multitude of blankets.

Instead he was out in the middle of god knows where, dragged out by people that called themselves hunters as bait for something. It didn’t take long to figure out what when werewolves of all things had emerged from the woods, running straight for the hunters without even taking a moment to breathe.

Amidst the chaos Lance had managed to hide under one of the trucks he assumed he had been taken in, curling up as best he could with his hands tied, working the ropes at his ankles while the sounds of growling and carnage sounded thick in the air. Amidst the noises a lone howl ripped through the air, a chill going down Lance’s spine at the harrowing sound. Everything in the clearing seemed to pause, werewolves and hunters alike falling silent at the sound of a new wolf.

And then chaos erupted as something emerged from the trees, hunters and werewolves alike breaking out in cries of alarm. The sounds of tearing flesh and ragged screaming from wolves and Lance closed his eyes to the slaughter, tears burning at the back of his eyes as he shut them tight, body curled and shaking in fear.

When it had finally fallen silent he chanced a look, covering his mouth with a hand to hold back a whimper. A hunter was lying dead next to the truck, face gouged deeply with claw marks and blood splattered everywhere he looked. Lance had to will himself not to throw up as he crawled out from under the vehicle. It took even more to not be sick at the carnage that surrounded him. Body parts were strewn about every which way, blood soaking the ground a deep red brown.

Holding down the bile in his throat he grabbed a gun from a stray hand, averting his eyes as he struggled to remove it from the now cold, lifeless fingers. Once he tried it free he held it with shaking hands, taking tentative steps in the clearing, avoiding the dead bodies, or what was left of them, that lay scattered about on the ground.

The headlights from the cars cast a harsh white light across the clearing, showcasing the bloody battle that had taken place only a few moments prior. Lance did his best not to focus on it, taking in heavy stuttering breaths as he tried to calm down.

His senses were like a live wire, prickling with unease and on high alert. So much so that when something grabbed his ankle it didn’t even take a second to register before he fired.

 

And now here he was, gun aimed at the barren trees that hid whatever was watching him.

“Who the fuck is there?!”

His nerves were shot and his shaking had increased ten fold at least.

He just wanted to go home.

He didn’t want to die.

A huff of a sound left where he was pointing the gun, something walking carefully out of the woods into the light.

It was smaller than the other beasts, yet still twice the size of Lance at least. It’s fur was night black, parts of it wet with blood and covered in scratches and deeper wounds. Though despite this it stood as if it hadn’t even gotten a nick. The beast kept it’s snout low to the ground, ears laid flat against it’s head, dark colored eyes shining in the light as it watched Lance from where it was crouched.

It made no move to come any closer, a low whine leaving it’s throat. It’s…hands which seemed nothing more than stretched out paws lay placed just under it’s head. Another low whine left them, the large thing seemed to shift it's weight, like it was itching to move but doing everything it could not to.

Lance was still shaking like a leaf, whether from the fear or cold it was impossible to tell. He could barely hold the gun in his hands still, unable to avert his eyes from the creature.

It’s dark eyes looked at him, the light making it shine a navy blue violet against the pitch black fur. He could’ve sworn he’d seen that color be-

No.

“K-Keith?”

An answering whine left the creature and before he could fully process anything Lance found himself standing up to walk towards it, towards Keith, the gun slipping from his hands to land with a squelch in the blood soaked ground.

Keith stayed still as Lance made his way towards him with shaky, unbalanced steps, unsure about making any sudden moves in case he ended up scaring Lance more than he already was.

Although it seemed he didn’t have to worry about that as long fingers buried in and gripped his fur with a hold that tugged at the roots.

A low whine left Keith’s throat at the sound of Lance sniffling, hot tears soaking into the fur of his neck. He tentatively nosed at Lance’s body, checking him for any injury. But besides the bloodied mud that clung to his jeans there was nothing else that smelled out of place to warrant any urgent concern.

“I want to go home.”

Keith bumped against him with his snout, pushing and prodding until Lance got the message, throwing a leg over his back and gripping at the fur on his neck as he dragged himself onto the rest of his massive body.

Making sure he was securely on Keith turned away from the clearing, instinct leading him home away from the massacre behind them.

* * *

 

When Lance awoke it was to sunlight in his eyes. The curtains were pushed open, the window cracked just enough to let the breeze through as it carried the early morning birdsong along with it.

His whole body felt tired and sore as he stretched, the sheets next to him feeling cold to the touch.

Keith.

Lance nearly fell off the bed with how fast he had gotten up, looking frantically around as memories from last night came back to him full force, leaving him with more questions than answers.

First one being, where was Keith?

He got out of bed carefully, wincing at the full body ache he felt down to his bones. Regardless he walked out of the room, hand pulling at the sleeve of a soft sweater he knows he didn’t have on last night. And he’s more than sure that he hadn’t put on his sweatpants last night either.

“Keith?”

There was not a sound but his feet across the floor as he shuffled through the hallway and out into the living room, blue eyes looking over the room with a worried look. Keith was nowhere to be found throughout the house and Lance’s chest was getting tight with worry.

Tapping his fingers in a hurried, almost panicked rhythm he took a moment to think, hissing in pain when he turned back around and ran to the room. It didn’t take him too long to locate his jeans, digging through the pockets to find his phone.

 **Keith:** I’m fine  
**Keith:** at Shiro’s  
**Keith:** if u need anything let me know

Lance read over the messages, looking at them in deep thought. It didn’t take him long to come up with a reply.

 **Lance:** come home?

Almost instantly he got a reply back.

 **Keith:** be there soon

He held the phone close to him as he sat on the bed, fingers messing with one of his shirt sleeves as he waited patiently for Keith to return.

He heard Keith before he saw him, hearing the keys in the being moved into the lock in the door. He was being louder than usual, Lance noticed. Usually Keith crept around the house mostly silent, steps light enough that only a few choice floorboards would creak under him if he allowed it. Now he could hear every step as Keith moved. Which meant he was purposely making noise for Lance’s benefit, to let him know he was approaching.

“Lance?” Keith called out, voice loud yet nervous sounding if Lance had to describe it.

“I’m in the bedroom!”

Keith appeared at the bedroom door, glancing at Lance for a split second before he directed his attention to the floor, shuffling nervously from foot to foot.

“You gonna stand there or come in?”

Keith opened and closed his mouth a few times, like he couldn’t decide what to say next. Lance patted the space next to him, moving aside to make room for Keith who hesitantly shuffled towards the bed and sat a ways from him.

A few moments passed in tense silence, only broken by the sound of fabric brushing against itself as Keith or Lance moved or shifted.

“So…” Lance started.

“So?” Keith said, the way he said it sounding more like a question than anything.

“Last night really happened right? I didn’t just hallucinate getting kidnapped and dragged out into the middle of nowhere somewhere in the woods by crazy people claiming to be hunters proceeded to battle what I can only assume to be werewolves?”

“If I say no will you be convinced it was a dream and drop it altogether?”

“No.”

A long, shaky sigh left Keith, failing to mask his nervousness. He was picking at the cuff of the sleeve on his jacket, a nervous tick Lance had picked up on years ago.

Keith jumped as a hand gently held one of his own, navy violet eyes looking into concerned blues.

He was scared, that much he’d admit to himself.

Coming home to find Lance gone, nowhere to be found without even left a note had scared him a lot more than he’d like to admit.

The lingering scent of herbs that burned his nostrils and made his eyes sting allowed his fear and anger to merge as one as he realized who exactly had taken Lance.

The rest of the night was more or less a blur, colors and blurry images flashing through his mind. The only clear memories he could sift through were those of Lance coming towards him, holding tightly onto him with tears soaking into coarse fur.

“Keith?” Lance called softly, thumb rubbing gently over his knuckles in a soothing motion.

“I’m sorry.”

“Wha-“

“I should’ve told you,” Keith continued, “But…I was scared, scared you’d leave me. I wanted to tell you, so many times, but I was…terrified of what’d you do, what’d you say. And you could’ve been killed last night because of me and-” He was cut off in the middle of his sputtering apology, finding his face smothered in a soft blue sweater. Long arms wrapped around him securely in a tight hug with long, lithe fingers buried in his hair.

It didn’t take long for the tears to start, Keith’s arms wrapping around Lance’s middle to hold tightly onto the sweater under his fingers.

“Hey stop crying, I’m not leaving you. Hate to break it to you but you’re stuck with me.” Lance teased, trying to lighten the mood.

Keith pressed his face into Lance’s chest, calming his earlier sobbing into hiccupping sniffles as the other smoothed a hand up and down his back in a comforting motion.

“You are aren’t you?” Keith said, voice slightly muffled by the sweater.

“Hm?”

“Stuck with me.”

Lance knew that tone.

The tone of self doubt tinged with a depressing sadness that tended to linger if you allowed it to. The same tone that the small voice in his head whispered to him with his insecurities got the best of him on the worst and even best of days.

He reluctantly pushed Keith away from him until they were face to face. Something he regretted instantly when a heartbroken look crossed over Keith’s face. His cheeks, nose, and eyes were tinged ruddy red, fresh tear tracks visible for Lance to see.

“Hey, hey look at me.” He pressed a knuckle gently under his chin, coaxing Keith to look at him. “I’m not stuck with you, stuck with that godawful mullet maybe…”

“...You said you loved my hair.”

“I do and I love you but that doesn’t take from the fact that it’s straight from some 2000’s emo pop star magazine.”

Keith made a noise, something like a watery laugh as he rubbed away a few lingering tears from his eyes.

“Besides, I’d be a shitty husband if I just left cause of one small hiccup.”

“I’m a werewolf…you were kidnapped by hunters just last night. I’m pretty sure that’s more than just a hiccup.” Keith dead panned, fixing Lance with an incredulous look.

Lance waved his hands in the air in an exaggerated manner, “Details, details, now get in some PJ’s and come to bed, I’m tired and I really don’t think I can stand up and stay up for longer than a second.” He said, already getting under the blankets.

Keith just stood there, watching him, the look from before still on his face.

Lance tilted his head to look at him, “What?”

“No questions? No freaking out? No panicking?”

“That’ll be later when I actually have the energy to do that, but right now I wanna cuddle with my second favorite person in the world.”

“Who’s the first?”

“Hunk.”

“Okay that’s fair.”

A few moments later Keith was lying next to Lance under the covers, the room as dark as it could get with the sun still outside high in the sky.

Keith found himself nearly asleep, snuggled into Lance’s arms when the other spoke up.

“You weren’t at Shiro’s were you?” He asked.

Keith ducked his head, ears turning red as he answered.

“…no.”

“Thought so. You know, next time you can just stay in the living room or something.”

“Didn’t…didn’t want to scare you.”

Lance hummed at Keith’s quiet admittance, holding him tighter and falling silent for a few moments more.

He didn’t think Keith had been at Shiro’s, especially with Lance hurt. Keith had a habit of staying close whenever he or the others were hurt.

There was one time where he had been sick and they’d gotten into a fight. Lance, I a fit of anger, had told Keith to just leave. And Keith had.

Or so Lance thought.

It wasn’t until in a fit of worry that he had decided to chance driving that he had found Keith, just outside his front door with a blanket lying up against the siding.

Keith mumbled sleepily, breaking Lance out of his thoughts and to focus on the nap he was supposed to be having.

* * *

 

When he awoke again it was to coarse fur in his face and hot breath over his head. The room was bathed in an evening glow, allowing him to see Keith, fully shifted, and sleeping quietly.

He looked different like this, from last night at least. Any cuts and bruises he had acquired beforehand were now gone, just thick fur in it’s place aside from the scar on his shoulder he had gotten back in high school.

Lance tilted his head up to look at his face, getting an eyeful of large teeth and fangs that poked out from his maw. His snout was long and his head resembled a wolf's aside from a few differences. One being his nose was more like a leopard seal’s, the nostrils contracting and flaring out as he took a breath. His ears were pointed and looked generally furless, a soft pink on the inside and glowing red and gold from the evening light as it shone through the window and skin.

The rest of his body was just a hulking mass of muscles and fur, his tail like that similar to a cat’s but more sturdy looking.

Kind of like a lion's.

Keith huffed a breath, shifting himself so he curled more towards Lance, his large body covering him like a solid wall of warmth.

Okay this was…not normal…yet.

Keith flinched, a high squeak escaping him as he huffed another breath, fur standing on end and fluffing up for a moment before relaxing.

A sneeze.

A cute sneeze.

And he was scared of him before why?

Yeah, that was gone.

Any fear he had lingering from before was 100% gone now.

God he loved his husband.


End file.
